Curse in the Darkness
by opposites attract contest
Summary: What happens when an act of fate or maybe twisted destiny brings together a lone soul and a carefree character? A transformation so great, neither Leah nor Edward knew what to expect and how to react.


The Opposites Attract Contest

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,255

Pairing: Edward/Leah

Summary: What happens when an act of fate or maybe twisted destiny brings together a lone soul and a carefree character? A transformation so great, neither Leah nor Edward knew what to expect and how to react.

**Curse in the Darkness:**

Life could change in a second—instantly. Once the first domino falls, the rest follow suit, for life was a domino effect. And the sick part, pit of the stomach wacked, you couldn't stop it. And regret was one hell of a pill to swallow, one damning mistress to sleep with.

She watched him through shrewd eyes, saw him fight, and feared his demise. On that night, enthralled yellow eyes became magnetized.

But unharmed from a brawl, four against one, what were the odds? Punch, punch, kick to the groin, to the stomach, to his loins.

What did the human hope to prove? Why couldn't he simply tuck tail—lose? She prowled, growled, hating her place, behind the shadows.

Yet she forced herself to watch, while baring her wolfish fangs. God it was hard, the toughest thing she'd have to do.

Tougher than walking through the world alone, bitter than breathing hate, than being branded 'rejected'. At last, he lay in a battered puddle of red; a broken one, his face swelled, his breathing grew erratic.

It would be his last, she supposed. Would death be merciful, much more than being thrashed to Hades' doors?

Her fur bristled, her snout touched the ground. This wasn't her beef, yet she couldn't turn and look the other way; not if the world were burning, not if she'd possessed a conscience, not even if she'd known of what was to happen.

The first domino had fallen.

Leah Clearwater loved to run, loved the thrill, challenge, and her body's power. Hate remained with her mother's plan to integrate their pack amongst human lives.

Her mother called her the restless soul, the wandering star. Needless to say, first chance she got, she bid goodbye and ran, hoping against hope to find the place where she belonged.

Twenty years stretched and passed; the last one more endless than the prior one. She didn't know when it happened, or why she had forgone her human side, but she bonded with the wolf and beast within.

She growled deeply. Memories were bitter poison; she could not change her past.

Crestfallen, Edward fought the blanket of weariness as they encroached him slowly, beating his battered limb to its core. He stifled a groan, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.

He willed his limbs to move, but disconnection shouted loudly at him. None would listen; neither his hands nor his feet followed his command.

All that was left to do was wait; wait, until it was time for him to breathe his last.

No white light beckoned him. Instead, his skull throbbed in agony and his body felt wretched. He was a dead man. Edward knew this; the ticking sound of his mental clock was skidding to a halt.

It was near. He closed his eyes, waiting for the knock of death on his door.

His eyes fluttered to a close. He resisted no more; reflecting and recounting the actions of his young life that would soon cease.

He felt the eerie quiet of his surroundings as if he wore them. His body shuddered at the gentle breeze.

A faint sound of footsteps neared him; with an outstretched hand, he envisioned and welcomed the herald. Something wet nudged him, flicking him on his side like a ragdoll. Immobility damned him.

Still, he waited.

Death had a quaint way of picking up strangers. Even though they were introduced, he remained unwelcome on murder's doorstep. Hot liquid continued to trickle all around him, drenched in his own mercurial fate.

He waited and listened. Uneven breathing sounded, not solely his. It grew louder, ringing stridently in his ears.

Constricted and limited, he lifted his heavy lidded eyes. Yellow eyes glowed in the dark, meeting his mournful gaze; eyes that kept him immobilized, speaking to him.

"Angel of the death, what are you waiting for? Take me," he beseeched.

Two white clouds shot in the air, unfamiliar cold swept him. She smelled his fear now.

The tears he fought hard to keep came flowing, vesting the claim of horror and terror.

"Kill me please, nothing is left of me. I absolve you from responsibility. Take me."

The chill came closer, hitching before him, sniffing his fear. He glanced again through his tear muddled eyes; begging, imploring.

Swift actions took him, two sharp fangs punctured him; no empathy, no understanding. The vein in his neck rebelled against the nature of the act. It was as sharp as the night air that flickered all around them; determinedly crisp, silent and deadly.

He bellowed in the darkness of the night. His curses echoed, unanswered. Tugging, tugging, his hands found a surge of strength, flinging and pushing. His fingers twined into a massive body of fur.

Through the pain that wrecked him, he saw his soul. Life was gradually slipping away as the pair of yellow eyes kept a steady gaze, watching him start on a direction of withering highway.

He wrestled with fear through agonizing cries, his curses. Yellow eyes remained detached yet vigilant.

Fear's grip doubled, rendering him useless in his pliant pain exploding within him contended with agony. He finally succumbed. Death wasn't sweet by any means. Each remnant of pain eased his yielding form with waves unbecoming a dream.

Oblivion soon took over; his form hunched before it sprawled over to the ground. She continued to watch him without a firm grip of what the next stage would be.

His breathing reduced to a shallow heaving of his chest. She did what she thought was best.

She moved a few feet away with ears pointed up, like a sentinel, trying to ease the guilt from her act; close enough, but not too much for her own comfort.

The dead of the night provide no solace, distraction had proven elusive. Repercussions as well as questions were certain to surface, answers must be given; solidify her flimsy excuse with a brace.

Who was to tell Leah that a helpless human would be her undoing? Why had she done it? She regretted her decision even as her sharp canine teeth met his flesh.

Disgusted, she turned away and continued pacing. She could lie to Edward. She could even attempt to lie to herself for her conscience's sake. But believe the lie, she could not.

Lonely, pathetically lonely; that was the reason she bit him. In the dark corners of her mind, she'd known part of her decision was to save his life and an even bigger part was done out of pity—yes—but the small poisonous portion of why she did it was simple. She may not have known him, but she couldn't let him go. Suddenly it seemed pivotal for the human to live—even if it meant living a damning existence.

She scowled at the ground. To regret it was futile, why couldn't he accept reality?

They were different as the moon and the sun. Perhaps it's one of the reasons they clashed, their willpower and emotions equally intense.

Her prowling legs suddenly gave out, gods she was weary.

Edward Cullen felt himself die, experienced pain so brutal and anguish so intense, he reckoned he might've pleaded for death.

It took three grueling attempts before he opened his eyes, and after two more, he decided he was alive. He wasn't an idiot. If he'd been dead and Hell did exist, he'd be there instead of staring above a canopy of… limbs and leaves.

Where the hell was he? Before he quite knew it, two huge paws were pressing down his chest obstructing air passages and the—err—_wolf_ stared him down. Wait, _wolf?_

Yellow eyes, memories flooded, leaving him lightheaded. What the bloody hell…

The wild animal, because there was savageness and something untamed in those yellow eyes, seemed satisfied.

It trotted around a big boulder, and a few seconds later a woman took her place. And she was naked. Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus. And a vision to behold at that.

"Wghrats yourr name? Name!" she asked. Her eyes blazed. They were the striking yellow with a tinge of muddy brown color; her features twisted. It struck him odd that perhaps she didn't know how to talk.

"Cullen, Edward Cullen, and who are you?" he asked, head cocked.

She mumbled something that resembled his name. "Edward Cullen," she said at last, doing the oddest of things: she grimaced.

Edward had his fair share of conversations while naked, but it was absolutely hell in this instance. Although his body felt awful, he couldn't help his damning eyes straying below her face, her eyes.

"I…uh… need to call someone to pick me up? And where the hell is _here?_" he asked, noting they were surrounded by green foliage.

"No." A guttural growl was heard more than the actual answer.

_Did she actually growl?_

"What? Look, just who are you and where the hell are we?" he asked. Normally he didn't act like an asshole with the opposite gender, but this was a stressful situation.

"No," she simply said, then started running; and for the second time that day, he found himself under a one hundred pound wolf.

And you want to know the fucked up part? _It—_the wolf—landed on his chest, cutting off the air. But honestly, it was an egomaniac thought cause Edward passed the hell out.

If Leah could kick herself, she would've. Truthfully, her people skills were nonexistent, and when she'd seen the human up close, she... she felt something, she felt vulnerable. That was the reason why she phased. Not like she'd planned on scaring the crap outta him. But what he said brought on anger.

Edward Cullen died, she thought fiercely, because there was no going back. She phased back to her human form the moment Edward blearily surfaced.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her brows furrowed.

"Shit, hell fucking no." Leah tracked him as he backed into a wall.

"You look alright," she finally said.

"Yeah…yeah. Well, look lady, I don't know what the hell's going on here, and I don't want to because after today I'm going back to New York where I live, and all this will just be one fucking bad dream. 'Kay?" Leah felt a tiny pang of guilt, she couldn't help it.

She understood the human—Edward Cullen—was going to hate her.

She shook her head, "Last thing you remember?"

"Yesterday? Well, I got mugged I guess, some shit-faced mofo's... I didn't see them, and they wanted my car. Did they get away with my wallet?"

"Not yesterday," it occurred to Edward that if the woman in front of him had shown one tiny bit of sympathy, he would've lost it. "Seven days ago. "

Leah started pacing, if only to clear her thoughts. She strained her eyes towards the twigs lying on the ground.

"You died. And I decided to help you." At Edward's befuddled expression, she continued. "I did wh—"

"Cut the BS, I'm alive. Or don't you see?" he snapped indignantly.

"You died," she stressed the words.

"If that isn't the crappiest shit I've eve-.."

"I am a werewolf," she blurted, "And you are one too. Well, half anyhow." Edward waited a whole minute before opening his mouth. Okay, she'd played her joke, now where were the cameras?

"Wha...at?"

He'd heard enough bluffs in his life to earn him heaven, but this one took the prize in the weird category.

Edward thought he'd seen enough even in the short life he led, this revelation was comical to the extremes, and laugh worthy to boot.

"Tell me what you can remember after you were mug-ged," saying words out loud again after a long time of not uttering them sounded funny, and quite frankly, difficult. Leah shifted on her feet uncomfortably. The sound of her voice was totally foreign to her ears.

Narrowing his eyes to summon the memories back to the surface, Edward glanced at Leah's naked body, trying to keep his gaze indifferent.

Although it just happened, my memories of what happened seemed murky. "Yellow eyes, cold wind, being bitten—that's how it felt to me," he looked at her

Her nod was brisk, "_Try_ to remember."

His face scrunched up in effort. "I can't goddamn... What the... yellow eyes... you?

His eyes, God, they did curious things to her. She decided there and then, she didn't care for it. "Yes," came out like a whisper.

"Alright, so you saved me. Big fucking deal, I only want to know how," clearly he was uncomfortable.

Her back stiffened. It was everything but _BFD_. Never had she bitten anyone; she was solitary by nature, by choice. That she'd risked her safety, her people's secret to a complete stranger was anything but a BFD. That she'd tie her destiny to a human was no BFD. No, not to her, "You were dying. I did what I had to do."

"What? _Why_?" There, the question she'd loath to answer.

"I'm a werewolf. I think that explains the _what_."

"I may be an asshole, but I'm not fucking stupid," he snapped. He didn't know how it happened, but she was running and phased mid-air, catching some serious air before she landed four-legged before him. And growled.

"Okay, Okay! Jesus Christ!" He cowered. "Shit. You… you've proved your point, but, fuck, can you just…"

She phased back, feeling foreign in her human form. From all of it, she guessed speech topped the list in annoyance.

"Fuck." Edward said in amazement. "You really are a werewolf, huh?"

His eyes roamed over her body, and for the first time in a long time, she felt self-conscious. "Yes."

She glimpsed appreciation, brief, but it was there, to be replaced by something cold. Hard.

"What did you do?" She caught the words, but they were said so very softly.

"I saved your life." She whispered, but loud enough for him to hear in his new state.

"_How_?" As a wolf she knew a howl could encompass pleasure, anger, or grief. But she hadn't been aware of how one word could transmit anguish. It gave her pause, what was the cost?

"My..." why was she suddenly out of breath? "bite."

He paled.

"_Why_?" She hated that word, for it sliced through her like a sword. "Why couldn't you just have let me die? Why did you… do this to me?"

What could she possibly say to that? She came up empty and silence appeared tempting.

"Whatever," he spat, "I need to call my family. And I'll find my way from this hell, with or without your help."

Her esteem of the human rose; his fear permeated the air, yet he held his ground. But she couldn't let him go. He was dangerous until he learned control, she reasoned internally.

"You can't go. And help you, I cannot."

"Why the hell not?"

"I bit you, Edward Cullen." He took steps back as she advanced, "Think! Do you want to put everyone you know in danger? No, I guessed not."

"You don't understand. I can't disappear. People will be looking for me. If its money you want, you'll have it!" He was now screaming at me, fear and anger thick enough to taste.

"No, you don't understand," she retorted. "I might've saved your life but," she was angry, and she missed the guttural sounds used to communicate as a wolf, "it didn't come without a _price_."

"You chose to save me, so if you're waiting for a Hallmark card with thanks and shit, you're mistaken lady." He crossed his arms over his chest and jutted his chin out in utter disregard for her and what she was. He showed no fear, but she could feel, hear it and almost touch it.

_Most impressive, yet the more he showed strength and dominance, the more I feel out of control. A feeling foreign to me until now. Who is he and what is he doing to me? _

She slowly backed away from him this time.

Frustrated, she glanced at the sky, saw the tainted hues. She had enough.

"You are not human any longer." She uttered quickly. That seemed to shut him up.

"What the hell do you mean?"

She turned and prowled, avoiding his eyes, his accusing glare.

"Turning humans in my world is a taboo." She hugged herself. "Most humans do not survive because our bites are lethal, and even if the human survives…the change kills the survivors."

"So basically, you 'saved' my ass to see what'd finished me off, huh? Nice freaking Mother Teresa of you." He bit off, fury so evident in his tone it was palpable.

She didn't comprehend; how could a male like him wish to die? Any existence was better than none, true? Were all humans alike?

Animals were different. Survival was of the fittest. Nature's way of doing away with the weak, but all were given a fair opportunity.

Death for her was something worthy of reverence, of respect. She'd traveled with Alaskan wolf packs and even then, when it was time for one animal to die, it was met honorably. Knowing their allotted time was up. It was something truly remarkable.

And then, there was this human, harboring a death wish.

"If that's your way of seeing the turn of events… so be it," she said for the sake of saying something.

"I have a family! They'll be searching for me, don't you understand?"

"Had. Had a family," then briskly said, "The sun is about to set, we need to move."

Then turned and phased, loving the safety of her fur. Feeling reassured—feeling like herself.

Edward broiled within. His anger was suffocating and crippling. He didn't ask for this. He preferred death than...than be a freak. A monster.

"Edward…Edward! Are you alright?" He hadn't talked to _her_—Leah as she'd introduced herself flippantly—since their last conversation. But it wasn't as if he'd meant to get angry, only that he seemed to have no control. He _felt_ anger's ugly manacles closing in, and it festered, sprouting limbs until he was alone is an endless red sea.

He quivered. And phased.

Shock followed by, sweet Mary Mother of Jesus, pain. The kind that is unfathomable, unimaginable. Almost out of body, if that were possible. Fever like Hell's own fiery depths ravaged, claimed, staked. His body doubled.

Imagine your ligaments being stretched, your bones rearranged, your muscles transforming—solidifying—and amongst all that, a fervent plea for it to stop. Imagine all over your body's millions of hair follicles sprouting around hairless skin, imagine sharp teeth pushing themselves out, and lastly, imagine a new raw kind of brutality.

You can't? Lucky you. I can, _now_.

Death, death, death became a chant, held a new meaning. Unreachable, but it was there, taunting.

Hands on his ski; the out of place sensation cut through his misery. He grabbed it like a stranded person holds desperately on his last bottle of water in a desert. Those hands were rubbing his back, an angelic thing in hell.

And then he was lying on the ground, agony free.

Leah, he recognized her, but when he went to stand up, he clumsily fell.

She squatted down, ground level, and when their gazes met…he saw his reflection.

Once the initial shock wore off, surprised flared. He expected he'd resemble Leah.

She was beautiful—wait beautiful?—yes…I supposed so. Those huge, intelligent eyes were magnetizing and enthralling. He'd almost believe them to be phosphorescent. Her fur was grayish with hints of silver and red, and her body screamed muscles. Power.

Unlike him, he felt deformed, like an abomination. His fur was thick and midnight blue, bordering on black. He wasn't like Leah, whose body was meant to be four legged. He was a freak with four massive paws, and only two were meant for walking. And he knew his eyes were black as his fur, lacking the beauty and grace of the female before him.

He snapped at her, suddenly furious. Instead of being afraid, Leah phased.

_Are you alright?_ Why was it always the first thing she asked?

His snarl came involuntarily. _Stop. Stop acting as if you care. As if you weren't the one responsible for this! _The muscles of his jaw shut firmly propelled by the force of his fury.

And to make matters worse, she didn't even try to deny it.

Electricity was in the air, tense, as if the very air was overcharged and waiting for something to happen.

After the tense moment, Leah broke the spell. _If you are done throwing your tantrum, let's go back._ Wrong thing to say, she knew it the moment her vocal cords worked to transmit the message.

Edward felt like a soda pop bottle, the kind that after getting agitated is ready to explode. He kept waiting for some godforsaken epiphany or even a signal that he'd lost it. Because underneath the myriad of emotions that bounced off the scale, he feared he would be left empty. Utterly spent.

_I can't do this, whatever the hell we're doing. _ He felt so goddamn weary of her, his anger and the shaky leash he held onto his emotions.

_And what are we doing?_

_Hell if I know. But I just can't. I'm leaving._

_You can't, _he saw her back stiffen.

After uttering the words, he knew it was the right thing to do. The darkness that gripped him was poisonous. The kind of poison that doesn't kill, but what's the use living when only an empty shell remains? It wasn't. Didn't she see?

_Look, I just have to leave because if I don't, I think I'll end up hating me, you—fuck—just everything. I don't know how to simply accept the shit that's happening...And just when I think the goddamn anger is gone, it hits me, okay? I try to think, but it's like...like I can't think with you around. Damn it. I just...I just need time to sort my shit out, alright? And I can't do it with you. I just fucking can't. _

His shaggy head swiveled to and fro, as if he wanted to shake a bad memory. As if the storm brewing in his depthless obsidian black eyes could be outstripped.

Edward really went on and did it. He left her.

One month in on Edward's absence, it dawned on her—Edward wasn't coming back. She felt her air passages constrict like the time she thought of taking on a black bear and the animal accidentally stepped on her hind leg.

She broke out in cold sweats. Because the knowledge that Edward would never return terrified her; chilled her in places she didn't even know existed. Because his company was _nice._ Both exciting and novel. And for once, the loneliness that constantly beckoned her was gone when he was there. Now it was back a hundred folds, suffocating her until she felt she was drowning in her own abyss.

_Ludicrous_. Only, could it be? They were as different as night and day, where she was night. The time she spent with him gave her an inkling of who he truly was; not an angry and brooding male, but someone warm—caring. Where she preferred solitude and her own thoughts (hello! she was called Lone Wolf for a reason), Edward was the type of social male that thrived with people and their company. She was brooding. He was what made the brooding feel awkward. Yet, she suddenly felt like something important, substantial even, was missing since he was gone.

Unconsciously, her paws dug deep into the moist soil. With something akin to desperation, she followed her gut. Her sixth sense that was all Edward. Exhilaration followed, as if her pheromones only knew Edward and nothing more. Her body hummed with life and she considered that perhaps she had only been existing and not really living until _him_.

She wanted to howl at the sun, to jump and skip and do denigrating things domesticated canines do. It rather held its own appeal. _Damn traitorous body and thoughts_.

_Fine_. She'd even apologize if that was what it took. For what—well, that was the question. Because she didn't regret her decisions. She didn't regret him.

He didn't know how it happened, but Edward didn't phase back to his human form. The knowledge was there, but he didn't dare approach.

It just wasn't him.

He was Edward Cullen; popular, promising, confident and content with his lot. He was never the kid that got picked last or arrived to places without a date.

That Edward and who he was now seemed light-years away; complete and opposite strangers.

The idea of accepting the events that led up to this was laughable. He couldn't, simple as that. He wished he could just run with it and act like nothing happened.

But going with the flow philosophy was basically bullshit. But he would try. And he did. Days morphed into nights, and wouldn't you know it, weeks passed.

Days were spent running and preying upon small animals for food. And when the sun set, he searched for shelter. But he wasn't alone, nature never sleeps. And he found himself looking forward; with excitement and awe, the time of evening when the crickets began their chirping and birds their singing.

His sense of smell and scent warned him when humans were close and all other dangers. And days passed in that manner.

But what concerned him the most was the facility with which his body, and to some extent, his mind adapted.

_Is this what I've come to? _ The daily conversations with himself helped pass the time.

_This is better than friggin' T.V. and microwave dinner? Heck, humanity itself is overrated. _

_Minus the Volvo. _His sane side reminded him. _The assholes probably sold it by now._ _Wish they'd get fucking wasted and get hit. _So much for his sane side, he thought wryly.

With a sigh, he decided it was time to quit playing games. Destiny or fucked up luck could be blamed for the events that led him there, but he would be damned if his life would go wasted. He needed to live. He still wanted to.

"Leah, for Pete's sake, why are you following me?" The snarl that rose from Edward's throat startled him. He knew she'd been following him for months, trailing in the background, quietly.

Leah stopped dead in her tracks, her paws contracted beneath her embarrassed stance. She thought the good mile she put between them would escape unnoticed. Edward, it seemed, had a good grasp of his wolf nature now. He sensed her presence, communicating with her even without the need to phase back to his human form, definitely, _pat on the back_ worthy.

Edward phased; after which, their communication was broken. Confused, Leah raced towards the direction where she knew he'd been, jumping through brush and vegetation to find out what happened to him.

Reaching the area where she thought he might be, she glanced around, calculating, placing his scent, identifying sounds. A small noise came from behind her as he emerged from behind the tree, a knowing smile on his face, his green eyes piercing her, staring at her, reading her. She let her gaze wander down to his body- raking the beauteous form before her.

"Tell me why you haven't stopped following me," his voice was even. The smirk on his face grew bigger as he watched her watching him. Though the expression coming from the wolf's face was impossible to read, Edward could tell she was enjoying his naked body.

"Phase woman, phase!" he ordered.

The wolf snorted, leading Edward to believe she wouldn't heed his demand. Patience was a virtue he lacked as a human and still did. He phased back when she stood unmoving.

What happened next was a picture of an animalistic act at its best. Edward lunged at Leah without provocation. This came straight out of instinct, knowing finally what he had to do. With tails whipping up in the air, he bared his fangs on her, apposing attitude of dominance, telling Leah an Alpha had emerged. One instantaneous movement led to another. Leah, in true wolf behavior, pinned back her ears while simultaneously licking Edward's muzzle.

This submissive behavior alerted Edward that Leah recognized his dominant position; with her tail tucked, head held low, her low whimper began. Words weren't necessary with the stamping of his position between them.

What Edward did next totally surprised Leah. She, who had been solitary for a long time, was stunned.

Wolves mated for life, which meant once they choose a mate, they stay with that mate for the rest of their life. Edward's action threw her 'I operate alone' shitty belief to the wind. She knew his wolf nature wanted her, and she, in this circumstance, was in no position to refuse. With reverence to her Alpha male, Leah jerked her chin to his and responded with fervor.

With things clarified between them, as far as how life would be from then on, they both phased back to their human form. Naked, desirous and open.

Edward straightened himself under her intense stare. Words were needed this time. He spoke first.

"We are different in many facets of our life, as vast as the nighttime sky and as flamboyant as daytime procured together. I think we can still work this out. If you are willing to take the leap with me." His tone remarkably even, considering the fact he had no idea if she could handle the situation.

Leah quietly bit her lips, bringing her hands to cover her breasts and exposed sex before him, failing miserably to hide her awkwardness as well as the excitement in her eyes. She felt more vulnerable in her human form, more so when the man before her raked his eyes on her without blinking.

"Edward, have you thought about this? You wanted to get away didn't you?" The words tumbled out of her mouth, with the tone that was both uncertain and hopeful at the same time.

"I wouldn't be asking if I wasn't," his answer sounded definite, confident. She had no reason to doubt him.

"What do we do next?" her question suggested the dripping reality of what she yearned for but never quite understood, 'til now.

He moved closer. The thick muscles on his shoulders flexed when he seized her closer to him. He brought his hands to her face; drawing them upwards with his fiercely obvious emotions on display.

"I will try to see if we can do the same in our human form. Is that an acceptable thing to do?" A small smile danced across his bright face.

Leah bit her lips harder, keeping hidden the wicked smile she knew was coming. She felt heat rising up to her face as she nodded, and that was all it took of his already burning desire, to crumble.

Without delay, he swept her off her feet, keeping her body pinned against his body as he marched through the thick brushes, the silent would-be witness to their lovers abandon.

"Let's live Leah, let's live," his words promised meaningful days ahead.

"I wouldn't want it any other way, Edward," she whispered in his ear as he laid her down on the bed of green. He let the smother of kisses tickle her senses, with a promise of a lifetime of togetherness to follow.

The last of the domino had fallen. All in good time.


End file.
